


Puzzle of my Heart

by shadowsamurai



Category: The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Humour, Romance, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 22:15:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1834105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsamurai/pseuds/shadowsamurai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From start to finish, there was something about her. She was a puzzle to him, one he didn't even realise he was looking for, one he didn't even realise would complete him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Puzzle of my Heart

**Author's Note:**

> It has taken a while to write this, with many notes along the way. I hope I got them all out, and I hope it flows okay. As always, I'm not sure about the finished article, but it's done now, so I guess...enjoy. :) (And I realise I might be overplaying the formal use of their names, which isn't quite the way it happened in the film, but it seemed a good way to go for this fic).

*** - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - ***

The first time Douglas sees Evelyn, he feels something he hasn't felt in a long time – attraction – and something he doesn't think he has ever felt before. He moves his bag so she can sit down, right next to him, and tries not to be too obvious about studying her; she's a puzzle to him, though he can't explain why. A cough from his right brings his attention back to his wife, who is glaring at him.

“What?” he mouths.

Jean just rolls her eyes in disgust, which makes him cringe and return his full attention to his newspaper.

Unbeknownst to him, though, Evelyn is also studying him discreetly, because she too noticed the look he gave her, and it surprised her to say the least, but what surprises her more was how much she liked the attention.

*** - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - ***

A little later, when they realise they're all going to the same place, they start to talk as people do, and Evelyn starts to get an idea of who the Ainslies are and the dynamics between them. When Jean make a comment about a high court judge being just the kind of guest one was hoping to meet, Evelyn is embarrassed for herself, Graham and Douglas. Graham takes the comment with a polite smile but she can tell he would rather not be known by that title. Despite his job, he seems like a humble, kindly man, and already she likes him. Douglas, however, doesn't even acknowledge his wife's comment; he's staring in the opposite direction, lost in thought, and Evelyn finds herself studying his profile. He isn't what she would call attractive, or even her 'type', if she has such a thing, but there is...something about him. Shared interests, perhaps? She would find out in time: at least she hopes.

“Mrs Greenslade, don't you agree?”

Jean's sharp voice brings her back to the conversation, and she turns to see a fake smile plastered on the other woman's face. And for the first time, she had misgivings about going to India. But then she sees Graham, who is smiling at her, letting her know she isn't alone in her assessment of Jean, and to her left she can tell Douglas is watching too. And so, even though she has no idea what the question is, Evelyn smiles and replies.

“Absolutely, Mrs Ainslie.”

As Jean turns to talk to her husband, Graham winks at Evelyn.

*** - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - ***

As they reach the bus, Evelyn notices the glare that Jean gives Douglas, like this is somehow all his fault, and she really does feel sorry for the man. She also watches as his wife spurns his help on the bus, but Madge readily accepts. Evelyn has already pegged Madge as a man-eater, but somehow she thinks Douglas is safe. Although it would be amusing to watch a face off between Madge and Jean.... Evelyn smiles to herself at that thought; she knows exactly who her money would be on.

“Mrs Greenslade?”

Evelyn blushes uncontrollably as she realises Douglas is stood there waiting to help her onto the bus as well. And she accepts his hand because it's the polite thing to do and he is only being polite. Except there seems to be a difference between the way he handles her and the way he handled Madge. Maybe it's just her imagination, maybe it's just wishful thinking, and once on the bus, she makes sure she sits away from him, between Graham and Madge.

But it isn't just her imagination. Despite his best attempts, Douglas has just been comparing her to Jean at every turn; he can't seem to help himself. She is just so...brave, he thinks, to do what she is doing, and on her own. Jean, however, already thinks it's a bad idea and they haven't even arrived at the hotel yet. And her comment about the food...he wonders when she became so negative, or if she had always been that way and he blocked it out.

Yet it's strange; Muriel's negative comment doesn't bother him half as much. In fact, it cheers him no end.

*** - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - ***

Despite her many bad habits, Madge is a people watcher, and their little group interests her greatly. It will be fun, she decides to see how things change over their time at the hotel. She chats a little with Evelyn as they travel in the tuktuk, and every so often she is unlucky enough to catch a word or two from Jean in the tuktuk in front of them. That woman is the opposite of Madge, but it is Jean's attitude that just rubs her up the wrong way. She doesn't know how Douglas puts up with her. Now there is a puzzle. He seems happy to be under the thumb of his wife, yet Madge isn't completely convinced.

When they finally arrive at the hotel, Madge and Evelyn just sit for a moment, taking in the sights, until suddenly, Douglas is there. “Let me help you,” he says, holding his hand out.

Madge takes it with a smile. They don't need help, but the chivalrous gesture is appreciated, and she knows it will irritate Jean, so she overdoes it a little. And she's right; Jean is watching her husband's activities with a glare. But then Douglas holds his hand out to Evelyn. They smile at each other, and something is slightly different. And they hold onto each other a little longer than necessary. Madge starts to smirk. Interesting. She steals a glance at Jean, who looks positively ready for boiling over, and as Madge gets a look at the hotel over the other woman's shoulder, she thinks it's about to get a whole lot worse for the Ainslies.

*** - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - ***

The first time Douglas notices things are changing between himself and Evelyn – or at least in his eyes – is one day when they are waiting for dinner, just sat enjoying each others company and the setting sun.

“What was I supposed to do, really?” he is saying. They are at the hotel, in one of the many courtyards – or parts of courtyards – just sat enjoying the quiet. “She is my daughter after all.”

She smiles at him and he thinks it is the most wonderful sight he has ever seen. “I know how you feel. But Mrs Ainslie feels differently?” she replies, a mixture of respect, cautiousness and curiosity.

His eyes drift towards the room he shares with his wife. “Jean feels differently about a lot of things...different to me, that is.” He looks back at the woman opposite him. “Do you know this was all her idea?”

Her eyes widen. “Really? I would never have guessed. I mean...well, you seem like you be quite at home here, but Mrs Ainslie....”

“Mrs Ainslie wants a nice house. A nice car. To be able to afford...nice holidays and...well, nice things. She wants...she wants more than I can give her,” he tells her quite honestly. “Probably more than I've ever been able to give her, really.”

“I'm sure that's not true,” she says.

“Perhaps. So...so, how is the job?” he asks, forcing a light tone.

She laughs. “Oh, you don't to be bored by that.”

“I do. I do...I mean, you won't bore me, I'm really interested,” he insists. “And I understand you're writing a...a blog?”

She smiles. “Before I came here, I could hardly use the computer,” she muses. “And now....” She gives a little shrug. “It's funny how things can change so easily.”

He stares at her much longer and harder than he knows he should but he can't help it. “Yes, it is.” He waits. “So, how is the job?” he repeats.

There's a little hesitation before she starts speaking, like she's certain he won't be all that interested. “Well....”

The others find them in the not-really-a-courtyard a while later, just in time for dinner, him still in the listening position, having said very little for a while, but he wouldn't have changed anything. And although she would never admit it, neither would she.

*** - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - ***

Jean's denial to do anything except stay in the hotel - no, not even that really, just stay in the room – is driving him to distraction completely. Not that he wants her with him either. In fact, any time spent with her grates on his nerves in ways he had never experienced before. What would it have been like had they remained in England? Would they still have experienced the same problems? Maybe...probably. But it would have been easier to hide from their troubles, like they had been doing for a long time, if he was completely honest. But here? There was no hiding. There were no secrets, or at least that's how it feels to Douglas. And honestly? He doesn't mind. It's like he's discovering himself all over again, and he's starting to realise he isn't the person he was before. Or maybe he's actually becoming the person he has always wanted to be. Being in India is liberating, exciting, and maddening in fairly equal portions. Some days he wonders how he can get through to the next one.

Then suddenly, without warning, he sees Evelyn. She doesn't even glance his way, doesn't even know he's there, but it doesn't matter. Because suddenly everything seems clear to him, everything seems right. He wonders if she knows what she does to him; probably not.

But at least one other person has noticed the affect they have on each other.

*** - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - ***

“You know, she made a pass at me.”

She looks at Graham in surprise. They spend a great deal of time in companionable silence. She feels honoured that he chose to tell her first about his reason for being in India, and since then she has enjoyed an openness with him she didn't even share with her husband. Of course, most of the time it is one sided but she doesn't mind.

“Who?” she asks. Surely Madge wouldn't.... And Muriel? Somehow she can't see that....

“Mrs Ainslie.”

Her eyes widened almost impossibly. “Oh,” was all she could manage.

Graham just smiles. “I suppose I should have expected it.”

“Does our high court judge have an ego that needs bolstering?” she asks teasingly.

He laughs a little. “Quite the opposite, Mrs Greenslade, quite the opposite. But it seems to me that Mrs Ainslie has gone out of her way to try and catch my attention.” He glances at her innocently. “One would think she wouldn't need to look anywhere else with such an attentive husband.”

“Perhaps simply being attentive isn't enough,” she replies mildly, refusing to be drawn into that particular conversation. “I think I will retire now. Good night, Mr Dashwood.”

“Mrs Greenslade, I'm sorry if I've overstepped a boundary,” he says, standing as she makes to leave. “It's just...I've seen first hand what denying yourself love and happiness can do. And at our ages, we can't afford to pass up opportunities. You're not doing yourself, your late husband or...anyone else an insult or injustice by feeling the way that you do. After all, Mrs Ainslie obviously doesn't feel bound by any loyalty to her husband.”

Evelyn smiles at him, but it's thin and sad and reserved. “That's where Mrs Ainslie and I differ, Mr Dashwood.”

“And that's why I think he likes you. Please, Mrs Greenslade...Evelyn...think on what I've said,” Graham implores her.

There's something in his tone, in his expression, that makes her suddenly fear the worst. Acting impulsively – she seems to do that more and more here, and she's starting to like it – she leans forward and puts her hand on his arm. “I will. And thank you.” She steps back. “And if you do find (look for his name), and you need moral support, you know where to find me.”

His smile is appreciative and gentle. “I do. Thank you.”

“Good night, Mr Dashwood.”

“Good night, Mrs Greenslade.”

*** - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - ***

As Graham goes to answer the now-working telephone, and Sonny rushes to tell everyone that the said telephones are working, Evelyn smiles at Douglas. “He is a likeable young man,” she says. “You know, when I first arrived, I wasn't sure about anything.”

“And now?” Douglas asks quietly.

“Things seem to be falling into place quite well, surprisingly so,” she replies after a pause.

“I'm happy to hear they are for someone,” he says, still quietly and now sadly too.

Evelyn sobers as she studies him. “Not so for you?” Her tone is polite, indicating he doesn't have to answer if he doesn't want to.

But he wants to. He wants to talk to someone, but especially this woman. “When I first arrived...I thought I was sure about...well, about everything. And now....” He shakes his head. “Now I'm just not sure.”

“Mrs Ainslie still won't go out of the hotel?”

Douglas shakes his head. “She, um, isn't comfortable. It, um, isn't what she expected and th-th-that is...well, it's my fault, I know it is. If I, um...well, if I hadn't wanted to-to-to come here....”

Evelyn leans across the table, a stern expression etched on her face, and she covers his hand with hers. “This is not your fault,” she tells him firmly. “You told me this was her idea.”

“Y-y-yes, well, I...I mean, um, she....” Words fail him completely as he struggles to admit the truth, and follow habit, which is to accept blame for everything, regardless of whether it's his fault or not. Instead he concentrates on her hand, studies it intently, then follows the line of her arm up to her neck, and finally his gaze comes to rest on her face. Her eyes are watching him intently, but there is something more there, something...impossible.

Graham comes back to the table oblivious of what he has interrupted but they don't mind; they both recognise the utter shock on his face, and Evelyn is the first to react. “What has happened?” she asks, full of concern.

When he doesn't answer, Douglas tries. “Mr Dashwood?”

Graham blinks, coming back to himself a little, the shock giving way to wonder. “They've found him. They've bloody well found him.”

Evelyn holds in a smile. “Manoj?”

He looks at her and nods. “Yes. But it can't be right. I mean, can it?”

“Only one way to find out,” Douglas says.

Graham stares into space for a while before nodding somewhat absently. “Yes, yes.” Then he stands, all in control of himself again. “Yes, of course. I must check it out.” He takes one step from the table before looking back. “Will you both...join me? I mean, I could use the...company.”

Evelyn beams. “We would be delighted.”

“O-o-of course,” Douglas stutters, surprised he has been asked.

They set off immediately and it doesn't even occur to Douglas to let his wife know where they are going. He just recognises that he is in the company of people he likes, and who like him, and it makes him happy. After witnessing an emotional reunion between Graham and Manoj, Douglas nd Evelyn leave them to catch up and walk back to the hotel together. He saves her from a mad moped driver, they have 'romantic' music played to them and they laugh a lot, and it's one of the best nights in his life, and definitely since arriving in India. But as he says goodnight to Evelyn, Douglas is completely torn, and suddenly he wants to talk to someone. He wonders if Graham would be able to help him and resolves to talk to the other man first thing in the morning, assuming he had returned to the hotel.

But the next day brings the kind of surprise that none of them wanted. He arrives in the courtyard to find Evelyn sat on a bench, hand clutched to her chest, unshed tears glistening in her eyes. He goes to her immediately, not quite kneeling in front of her. “W-w-what is it?”

She just looks to her right, doesn't gesture or point, just gazes. He follows her line of sight as he stands, takes one step away from her, and then realises what he is seeing. Graham is slumped in the hanging chair; it's clear he is dead and without really thinking, Douglas puts his hand on Evelyn's shoulder, his eyes never leaving Graham's body, even when she covers his hand with hers. They stay like that until the others arrive; unfortunately, neither miss Jean's glare in their direction.

*** - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - ***

“Do you know what I find most interesting about our little group?”

He was miles away, his thoughts occupied with far off fantastical things, and he jumps when he hears her voice. “S-s-sorry?”

Normally, a stutter would annoy Madge; she likes her men strong and suave. But when Douglas does it, it is definitely adhering and almost sweet. So instead of laying into him like she plans to, she smiles, hoping to lull him into a false sense of security. Though she isn't sure it will work too well, not when his wife is Jean....

“What I find most interesting about our little group is the connections which have formed,” she says, sitting at the table while he says perched on the wall. “People you might not necessarily talk to normally are suddenly good friends. And there are attractions to.”

“I-I don't know what you mean,” he says, returning his gaze to the buildings before him.

Madge takes a sip of her drink and studies his profile. Time to change tactics. “Death brings many things into perspective. What we've done with our lives or not done, the regrets we have, opportunities lost....” She pauses, more for effect than anything else. “And at our time of life, we really don't the time to pass anything up. And where is the point of spending the rest of one's life unhappy?” She shakes her head. “No, that's not for me. And I don't think anyone would want that, really. Loyalty is all well and good, but unhappiness can be just as fatal as a heart attack.”

Douglas knows Madge wants to talk about something and he knows she isn't going to give up, so he turns to look at her. “Is there something...I mean...did you want to say...or talk about something?”

She smiles again. “Yes, I did. And I'm sure you'll forgive me for being blunt, but when are you going to make a decision?”

“E-e-excuse me?”

“You have a wife who holds your loyalty, but does she love you? And do you love her?” Madge asks, going for the jugular. “Yes, you have history, but I had that with my husbands as well. And it doesn't mean diddly squat in the end.” Her expression turns sly. “I've seen the way she looks at you, you know. Your feelings aren't one sided.”

“Um, you mean, um, Jean?” he asks, hoping to deflect her.

Madge's expression hardens but before she can correct him, Norman arrives. “It makes you think, doesn't it?” he says as he sits down.

Madge is forced to turn her attention away from Douglas and onto Norman, but something tells Douglas the discussion is far from over. As their conversation takes shape and flows, he reflects. The talk he has just had with Madge has unsettled him, more than he already was. She is a forthright woman, and if he's honest, she scares him just a little. But she means well and she is nice enough, it's just...for him, it isn't that simple. He sits on the wall of the roof terrace, looking down over the streets. On the edge. It seems appropriate, somehow, like it's the meaning of his life. And then he sees her. Suddenly, unexpectedly, and he realises he's been looking for her, waiting for her. And then he realises he's been doing that his whole life. And that unknowingly, she has saved him from going over the edge. Because despite still being married to someone he's beginning to loath, he knows everything will be alright as long as they stay in India...as long as he's close to her.

He doesn't even excuse himself, as Madge and Norman are so wrapped up in their conversation they wouldn't notice him leaving, and leave he does. He wants to catch her alone, just for a moment, for no other reason really than to enjoy her company. But what he hopes will be a simple conversation soon turns into something else; he's surprised how easily she opens up to him, allows herself to be vulnerable, but he's even more surprised by his own reaction. He and Jean are not physical in any sense of the word any more, and she has never been particularly affectionate anyway. Whenever he tried to comfort her, she just moved away and so now it isn't something he does. Except with Evelyn. As he pulls her to him, it seems like the most natural thing in the world, it feels so right, and as she leans against him and her hand goes clasps his back through his clothes, Douglas begins to wonder just how much more his life could change while in India. He wants to say something to her, to tell her it will be alright, but then Jean interrupts them and he can tell by his wife's tone of voice that things between them are about to come to a head.

Evelyn is aware of Douglas' hesitation as she flees up the stairs to the roof terrace to seek the safe company of the others, but she can't deal with it. If he had been a widower like her, or even divorced...even if Jean had stayed in England.... Her thoughts are interrupted by alcohol she thought was water, and if it hadn't been for Madge's shift in expression, and Norman's usual announcement of 'the Ainslies', she wouldn't have turned round. As it is, she can't look at him, and from what she can see, he is making an intense study of the floor. But he doesn't say anything. In that moment, she needs him to speak, needs him to stand up for himself, but he doesn't...maybe he can't. It doesn't matter. Whatever moment they had, whatever could have possibly been occurring between them or may have occurred in the future, has been lost. And suddenly, she wonders why she also is staying in India when her chance for happiness is leaving.

*** - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - ***

The train ride back to the city is unbearable, really, and isn't helped by Madge's occasional sharp one line comments, which Evelyn understands in the general context but she feels like there is more going on, especially given the looks Madge keeps giving Douglas, who is studiously trying to ignore her. And then when they hit traffic, which is to be expected really, she has had enough. She politely excuses herself and starts walking.

Douglas gets out, almost about to go after her, but he doesn't. He just stands, paralysed, as Evelyn walks away, until he feels a sharp elbow in his ribs. He almost cries out, but doesn't, thankfully. “What is the _matter_ with you?” Madge hisses to him.

He turns to see Norman has engaged Jean in conversation, though it is extremely one sided but at least her attention is away from him. Suddenly furious with himself and everything around him, Douglas grabs Madge's elbow and walks her five paces away from the vehicle and his wife, giving them a better chance of talking.

“I don't know what you mean,” he says to her when they stop.

Madge is impressed by his impulsiveness, but mad he chose to use it at the wrong time on the wrong woman and she lets it show in her expression, which is murderous to say the least. “You know _exactly_ what I mean! You're just going to let her walk about? Are you mad?”

“I...am...married!” Douglas tells her slowly, still fuming.

Madge softens immediately when she sees the turmoil inside him, and she lays a hand briefly on his arm. “Oh, my dear man, that is an extremely noble idea, and utterly pointless if neither of you are happy. And I know Evelyn certainly isn't happy that you are leaving. Do you have any idea what it must be like for her to find someone else after losing her husband?”

“Yes. Yes, I do,” he replies firmly. “But I am still married. Don't you understand?” He paces from side to side for a moment. “I can't make the decision to leave. She...she wouldn't let me.” And with that, he turns and heads back to his fate.

“Mr Ainslie,” Madge calls softly, gratified when he stops and turns. She waits until she walks up to him before speaking again. “You should see her once more before you leave. Just so you can be sure you're making the right decision, despite what you've just said. Because truly, if you can't be happy at our ages, what is the point of living?” Douglas doesn't say anything but she knows her words have sunk in. “Come on, if we're lucky we'll get to the hotel before her.”

*** - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - ***

“Don't you want to see him?”

Evelyn had hoped to slip back into the hotel unnoticed, to hide out until Douglas and Jean had left, and then decide what she was going to do. Except she had forgotten that Muriel was at the hotel too. Muriel was always around, housebound partly by circumstance, partly by choice.

“See who?” she asks, hoping her eyes aren't too red from crying.

Muriel's gaze is, as always, piercing and goes straight to the soul while her words go straight for the jugular. “Mr Ainslie. Are you really ready to see him leave?”

“How do you know about that?”

“Word travels fast here, don't you know?”

“Yes. Well, I am happy for both of them. Excuse me.” Evelyn makes to leave, but she should have known she wouldn't be so lucky.

“Mrs Greenslade, it really is none of my business, but you do...have feelings for him, don't you?” Muriel asks softly.

She stops with one foot on the step, one hand on the rail, and sighs. “It doesn't matter. He's leaving.”

“Have you given him an alternative?”

“I will _not_ break a marriage up,” she replies hotly.

Muriel just holds her hands up. “I'm not suggesting that because from what I've seen, you'd be doing them both a favour. I think that marriage was floundering long before they came here, and you know it too. So if that's not the problem, what is?” Her expression turns kindly. “Are you scared, dear?”

“Yes,” Evelyn admits. “Wouldn't you be? I thought I had everything with my husband, who I knew for most of my life, and it seems he still kept secrets right up to the end. I thought I was happy with him. And now? Now I wonder if I know what happiness is.”

“And do you think Mr Ainslie feels the same way? Don't you think you both owe it to yourselves to be truly happy at least once in your lives?”

“Perhaps. But he is still married, despite how things might be between them. And though it might sound old-fashioned, I'm not comfortable being the one doing the...the chasing, so to speak.”

Understanding dawns on Muriel's face and she nods. “If I see him, what do you want me to tell him?”

“He won't come looking for me.”

Muriel smiles. “I can promise he will. He'll pack his bags and then make some excuse like he's forgotten his wallet just so he can see you again. You just watch, my dear. And when that happens, what do you want me to say?”

Evelyn hesitates, wanting to believe he will come back to see her yet not believing it at the same time. “Tell him I'm not back yet.”

“If that's what you want him to believe, you had better get out of sight.”

“Thank you.”

*** - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - ***

After Evelyn has left for work, Douglas goes to his room, reality sinking in as he sits on the bed. His marriage is over. He's staying in India, his wife is going back to England. And it doesn't bother him as much as it really should have done. And for the first time since arriving at the hotel, he finds he has nothing to do, except wait for her to return, something which can't happen fast enough for him. He opens his case to change into something more comfortable, only to realise he doesn't really have anything that fits that description. Not any more, anyway. He reflects briefly how quickly life can change, even at their ages.

“You're back.”

He looks up to see Madge stood in the doorway. “Mrs Hardcastle.”

She regards him for a moment. “Mrs Ainslie?” she asks, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from him.

“She went...left,” he replies with a slight shrug.

“You didn't want to go with her?”

“She didn't want me to.”

Madge smiles. “But that's not what I asked.”

He still finds her directness refreshing and off-putting at the same time. Part of him wants to say it's none of her business, but he reminds himself that since arriving in India, everyone's business is everyone else's, especially in the Marigold Hotel. So he shrugs again. “No, I didn't. I like it here.”

Madge's smile turns into a smirk. “Have you seen Mrs Greenslade yet?”

It's asked far too innocently but he isn't fooled. And strangle, it doesn't bother him what the others will think of what's going on. In fact, they will probably approve and encourage him. “Yes, I saw her just now, on her way to work,” he replies.

“Good.”

“Mrs Hardcastle.”

She was about to leave but turns in the doorway. “We really must do something about this,” she mutters to herself. “Yes?”

“I was wondering...if you're not busy.... Well, I....”

Madge steps into the room and puts a hand on his arm. “Just spit it out, Mr Ainslie. We're all friends here.”

He smiles at her then. “I think I need some new clothes. Something more...comfortable. And I was wondering if...maybe...you could help me shop? I'd like a...second opinion on things.”

“A woman's opinion, you mean,” she corrects. “Of course, I'd be delighted. Now come downstairs and tell the others what's going on.” And with that, she grabs his hand and all but drags him from the room.

He's met with curious stares but no hostility, for which he's grateful. “Good morning,” he greets them as though nothing has changed.

“Mr Ainslie,” Norman says, tipping his glass towards him. “And Mrs Ainslie?”

“Before we get to that, let's clear something up,” Madge says firmly. She looks at Douglas. “My name is Madge.” Then gestures around the table. “This is Muriel, Norman and Carol. Last name unknown.” She winks.

“Last name not required,” Carol replies with a smile. “How do you do.”

“Pleased to meet you,” he says. “I'm Douglas.”

Madge positively twinkles at him. “And I believe you've already met the other permanent guest here, Evelyn.”

His smile is somewhat mysterious. “Not yet I haven't.”

“Well, now you're here, you can help,” Norman says.

“With what?” Douglas asks as he sits down, having first pulled the chair out for Madge.

“We want to make a memorial for Mr Dashwood in the hotel,” Muriel explain.

“Graham,” Madge corrects.

Muriel just rolls her eyes. “Nothing too fancy, just something simple. Tasteful. We think he'd have liked that. We think....”

“He wanted to die here, in India,” Norman finishes. “Close to the person he loved. He could have stayed anywhere, yet he chose to stay here. He chose to share his life and his big secret with us. And we'd like to remember him, out of respect if nothing else.”

“It's a wonderful idea,” Madge enthuses.

Douglas nods in agreement. “Definitely. D–do we have any ideas?”

Muriel looks at Norman, who stares back. Carol rolls her eyes this time and smiles. “Well, although I didn't know Graham, here's what we're come up with so far....”

*** - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - ***

“It-it's orange!”

“And a lovely shade too. Brings out your eyes.”

“Bu-bu-but...orange!”

Madge sighs and folds her arms. “And?”

Douglas looks at her meekly, immediately subservient. “I just....”

“Oh you poor man, you really were hen-pecked, weren't you?” she says kindly, laying her hand on his arm.

“I suppose I was,” he admits. “I suppose I thought that...that getting divorced was some sort of-of-of failure on my part.”

Madge laughs lightly. “If that's true, then I am almost a professional failure. I'm not offended,” she says quickly. “So don't even think of apologising.” She regards him carefully for a moment. “Perhaps it is failure, but certainly not on your part. Don't let what is now a part of your past destroy what could well be your future. You should never give up on hope or happiness, Douglas.”

“Are you going to follow your own advice?” he asks softly.

“Too bloody right.” Madge holds the shirt up. “Now, do you like this?”

“Yes.”

“Then let's buy it.”

“I just....”

That's the second time he's said that and she wonders if she misunderstood the first time. “Yes?” she prompts carefully.

“I-I-I don't know if sh-sh-she'll like it or not,” he stutters.

The penny doesn't so much drop as land with a loud, resounding, rather deafening thud. There's no need to ask which 'she' he means. “Do _you_ like it?” she asks again, softly.

He sighs. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

“Then she will like it.” She almost says her name, but respects him enough not to, just in case things don't work out. “Now, what about something turquoise? I think it would bring out your eyes spectacularly.”

*** - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - ***

“Have fun, did we?” Muriel calls out when then return from their lengthy shopping expedition.

He's laughing at something Madge has just said, but sobers long enough to answer. “Yes, actually, I think we did.”

There's a marked difference in Douglas already, just after a few hours, and the others silently approve. Carol manages to raise her eyebrows at Madge, who just winks in reply.

“Good. Norman here wants to make a start on Graham's memorial,” Muriel explains with a smile.

“Oh good. What did we decide on?” Madge asks, sitting down. “And shouldn't we have waited for Evelyn to return from work?”

“Oh, I talked to her about it last night,” Muriel says, though it's clear that there was more to the conversation than she's willing to share.

Madge raises her eyebrows; Muriel ignores her. “Go on, Norman, tell them.”

“Well....” Norman rubs his hands together, then looks at Douglas. “I say, old man, are you any good with your hands?”

“Um....”

*** - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - ***

Carol looks up from her book. “Can I help you?”

Douglas hovers in the doorway. “Um...I was just...well, I was looking for, um, Norman, actually,” he replies.

“Is this about Graham's memorial?”

He can feel his ears starting to burn, which he tries to tell himself is completely ridiculous as he has done...that before. He has kids, for crying out loud. But talking about it with anyone is...well, awkward to say the least. And now Norman isn't in his room, things have just grown even more awkward.

“No, no it isn't. It, um, isn't important. I'll-I'll just talk to him later,” he replies, backing out of the door.

“You can come in and sit down, you know,” Carol says with a smile. “I won't bite.”

Douglas isn't too sure about that. She has the same expression Madge wears regularly, and suddenly he's glad he isn't either woman's type. “Um, okay. Sure. Thanks.”

“So, what did you want to talk to Norman about?” Carol asks, putting her book down and giving him her full attention.

“It's...well, it's, um, just something, that's all.”

“Personal?”

“Yes.”

“Sex?”

Douglas' face flames despite his best efforts to stop it, and he stands. “I should....”

Carol laughs lightly. “Sit down, it's fine. You can still ask Norman's opinion if you want to. It would probably be good for his masculine ego if you did. But let me tell you from experience – you don't need anything. You just need patience and an attraction, and nothing else.” She laughs again. “He brought pills with him the first night, but they fell out of his pocket and rather than call him on it, I just swapped them for aspirin.” She waggles her eyebrows at him. “And everything went just fine.”

Douglas is amused despite himself and he smiles as well. “Aspirin?”

Carol nods mock seriously. “Aspirin.”

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Now tell me, are you going to meet Evelyn when she finishes work?”

He smiles again. “I think I will.”

Carol's answering smile is broad. “Good.”

“What's good?” Norman asks, walking into the room.

“The fact that we can all stay here in this wonderful hotel and in the company of wonderful people,” Carol replies without missing a beat and unwound herself from the chair. “Now if you'll excuse me, I have a few things to do. I'll leave you boys to chat.” She winks at Douglas on her way past, an action only he can see.

“Are you here to see me?” Norman asks.

“Yes, actually, I am,” Douglas says.

Norman looks surprised. “Oh. What can I do for you, old man?”

“Well....”

*** - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - ***

The young manager of the hotel is surprised to see Douglas stood in the doorway but he doesn't show it. “Yes, Mr Ainslie? How may I be of service to you on this glorious day?”

“Sonny,” he replies. “Or is it Mr Kapoor now?” Madge had filled him in about the future of the hotel while they were shopping and somehow calling the young man by his first name didn't seem quite right.

Sonny, however, grins broadly. “You are my first guests, you may call me whatever you wish, although it would please me greatly if you would continue to use my given name. But I thank you for asking, it is greatly courteous of you. You need something of me?”

“Well, I...um...two things, really.” Douglas hesitates. “Okay, so this is a little embarrassing for me....” He takes a deep breath, then straightens his shoulders. “Mrs Ainslie isn't...she won't be...she has returned to England. She won't be coming back. But I'm staying...if-if-if that's alright, of course. And I was just thinking if you wanted me to move to a...a smaller room, I understand, and I'm...um...happy to do that.”

Sonny regarded him for a moment, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “There is no shame in admitting the truth or wanting to be happy, Mr Ainslie.”

“You're the second person to tell me something similar today,” he murmurs.

“Mrs Greenslade is an extremely wise lady,” Sonny says, misunderstanding but continuing quickly before Douglas can correct him. “As for your room, if you are comfortable there, please stay. But if you would like to move, then please move. You were my first guests, and I appreciate your patience and support, so you may do as you please. As long as the manager knows first, of course, so can avoid any...situations.”

“R-r-right. Thank you.” He is actually stunned into silence by the young man's words.

“Now, Mr Ainslie, what was the second thing you wish to ask me?”

He smiles then. “I need a ride....”

*** - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - ***

He's nervous, though he thinks he really shouldn't be. And he's pacing, though he knows he shouldn't. What if he's wrong, though? What if it doesn't work out? What if...?

“Stop it,” he tells himself firmly. He needs to change, just a little...he needs to be the kind of man he always wanted to be but never had the chance.

“Hello.”

Her voices startles him and he can't help but stutter when he sees her. “H-h-hello.”

“Are you...waiting for someone?” she asks, hoping but not daring to believe.

“Y-y-yes. Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. And...and she had just arrived.”

She has no reply to that and so changes the subject while she collects herself. “New clothes?”

“Yes.”

“Mrs Hardcastle?” she guesses, smiling.

He smiles back. “Madge helped, yes. Well, advised, really.”

Her smile falters a little. “Madge?” she repeats. Surely not....

But his expression assures her she's wrong. “That's right, you don't know. Apparently it has been decided that formality should be thrown right out of the bloody window, at least with the six of us.”

“Six?” she asks, then nods. “Carol. Of course.”

“Exactly. So....” He holds his hand out. “I'm Douglas, and I'm very pleased to meet you.”

“I'm Evelyn. Likewise,” she replies, then releases a little giggle. She can't help it; the situation is a little sweet and a lot absurd, and she likes it.

He smiles as well, then grins, then on impulse bows and kisses the back of her hand. “Would you do me the...the honour of allowing me to-to-to walk you home?” he asks.

“If I say no, will you follow me anyway?”

He pretends to think. “Probably.”

“I don't need a stalker.” She shakes her head, still smiling. “In that case, I accept. Thank you.”

He's tempted to offer her his arm, but thinks it's too much too soon, and so settles for walking closely next to her in companionable silence. “How-how was your day?” he asks after a while.

“Oh, fine. The same, really. Yours?”

“Interesting.”

She glances at him. “Yes, I can imagine. I like your shirt, by the way. It brings out your eyes.” It's an easy compliment but she's still nervous about giving it.

“Thank you,” he says, surprised. He's then silent for a moment, obviously contemplating something. “I was wondering...um...that is, if you would like...perhaps we could get something to eat out. Unless you're in a-a-a rush to get back.”

She smiles at him. “Not really,” she says, accepting the effort he's making. “What did you have in mind?”

“Chilla pancakes? I'm not sure what they are but they sound interesting.”

“Sounds wonderful,” she says warmly, thinking of Muriel's words. Sometimes things don't work out the way we expect, but what happens instead is the good stuff.

He's surprised by her easy agreement but manages a smile instead. “Good.” Then, deciding he didn't really have time to wait, he held out his bent elbow to her. “Shall we?”

She suppresses another giggle, worried how easily he reduces her to giggles, and nods. “Lets.”

She takes his arm, feeling the sinewy muscle beneath the shirt, and decides she likes the way it feels, walking next to him. She brings up her other hand and places it over his, so she's well and truly attached to him. For Douglas, it feels like Evelyn has decided to keep him and never let him go, and that's just fine with him. In fact, it's just fine with both of them.

FIN

 

_'Puzzle of my Heart' by Westlife_

_It's the way she fills my senses_  
It's the perfume that she wears  
I feel I'm losing my defences  
To the colour of her hair 

_And every little piece of her is right_  
Just thinking about her  
Takes me through the night 

_Every time we meet_  
The picture is complete  
Every time we touch  
The feeling is too much  
She's all I ever need  
To fall in love again  
I knew it from the very start 

_She's the puzzle of my heart_

_It's the way she's always smiling_  
That makes me think she never cries  
I feel I'm losing my defences  
To the colour of her eyes 

_And every little piece of her is right_

_[Chorus]_

_Like a miracle she's meant to be_  
She became the light inside of me  
And I can feel her like a memory  
From long... ago 

_[Chorus]_

_Every time we meet_  
The picture is complete  
Every time we touch  
The feeling is too much 

_Every time we meet_  
The picture is complete  
Every time we touch  
The feeling is too much  
She's all I ever need  
To fall in love again  
I knew it from the very start  
She's the puzzle of my heart 


End file.
